


Cherubs First Trip

by GoblinRenaissance



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Author Projecting onto Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Flying, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda angel and demon true forms, Love Confessions, M/M, No smut sorry I'm repressed, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Unless like you wanna I ain't yo dad, Wings, Wrestling, don't do drugs kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinRenaissance/pseuds/GoblinRenaissance
Summary: When you ask your snake whats in his mouth and he just chews fasterCrowley is tired and wants to take a trip of the non-spatial kind. Aziraphale (accidentally) joins him. Shenanigans and Feels ensue.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Cherubs First Trip

1.

Aziraphale knocked three times and stepped back. He regretted not bringing something to clutch to his chest. Carrying things was always a good way to ensure that he knew what to do with his arms. Crossing them felt awkward, they didn’t seem to hang right at his sides and various experiments with arranging them over his head did _not_ work out in his favour. He settled for a strange clasping gesture just as the door was opened.

“Wha-... Oh its you!” Annoyance merged into a sort of nervous excitement on the sharp face of his would-be host. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just thought I’d check on you. Make sure the transition to the side of righteousness is going smoothly and all that.”

“I’m not on the side of righteousness. And neither are you.”

“Well the side of righteousness didn’t really turn out to actually be all that righteous did it? I guess I’m just checking you’re not up to no good.”

Crowley leaned against the doorway with a bemused expression. “That’s funny I was just about to check that you weren’t up to good yoursthelf. But I need to do something first. Should only take a day or two, I’ll come by on the weekend. Lock up your misprinted biblesth, angel.”

“Oh well if its not a good time-“ Aziraphale twigged to the slight lisp in Crowley’s last utterance, “-What is in your mouth?”

“Bisthcuit.”

“You told me biscuits remind you of little pieces of corpse. What is in your mouth?”

“It’s none of your busthiness! Don’t ask questions!”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

“Its related to the... thing. It’s a bug! I have an important mission for the British government and I can’t tell you what it is lestht I endanger your life!”

“And they put it in your mouth?”

“Yesth?”

The mysteries of the universe sailed into the too hard basket as Aziraphale’s mind focussed all his energy on solving the conundrum before him. Nothing made sense. But he could make sense of this. Aziraphale pulled Crowley into the spacious hallway by a gangly arm and deposited him against the wall beside his own front door. His right arm pinned Crowley’s chest while his left endeavoured to extricate the offending enigma.

“A-hah!” he extracted several small pieces of paper and stepped back, wiping his fingers on his handkerchief. They had pictures on them. A message in code perhaps? “Well this is disappointing, you’re clearly up to at least some of your old tricks. Coded messages you’re trying to eat to destroy?”

Crowley looked like he was fighting off a headache and a laughing fit at the same time.

“Drugs, angel.”

“What?”

“Its drugs. Drugs that can definitely be absorbed through the skin. Especially they’ve already been inside somebody’s mouth.”

“So you wanted to be left alone to...”

“Yes. Be on drugs. I just needed to unwi-”

“Right.” Aziraphale paused. “And now I’m...”

“Going to be on drugs too. Yes.”

“Hang on, I’ll just miracle it out!”

“Works with alcohol. Psychadelics are different. Slippery little buggers, you can’t grab ‘em to yank ‘em out. So please stop trying before you strain a heartstring or something.”

Aziraphale relaxed. “Ah. But surely I’ve only had a tiny-“

“Well yeah, but you are still holding them.” Crowley stuck out his tongue, which didn’t seem to be able to decide if it was forked or not. “Please?”

Azirphale replaced the scraps. “Crowley your tongue...”

“Oh right, yeah you get some fun bonus effects if your consciousness doesn’t match your form. We should get you inside.”

“Oh, _fuck_.”

Crowley’s glee stretched across his face, far past the point where his human lips would be expected to end. Aziraphale looked decidedly unimpressed.

“Ok yes, I should react to you where humans are not likely to be ever. Why do I even have neighbours? Anyway, come on.”

Aziraphale followed Crowley in and shut the door behind him.

“So how long til I get... effects... like that?

“Well, I only _just_ took it, and I assume you didn’t have the same intimate relationship with the 1960s as I did… buckle up cupcake.”

“What happened to you in the 1960s?”

“Skirting around an angelic festival of mixed signals,” Crowley ignored the principality’s scandalised look, “Mainly filling in for one or more of the Beatles.”

“What?! You never told me about that! Nobody noticed?”

“It’s reality angel. Also, drugs.”

“Ah right. Yes. Them.”

Aziraphale blushed, and a pink sheen danced through his hair. Crowley felt himself lose control of his irises just as the hair of his fringe (and the rest of his scalp, so as not to be suspicious) experienced an unprecedented growth spurt. He blessed and cursed his shifting form simultaneously as the object of his admiration buckled over laughing at his expense. Mirth made itself known in the form of twisting gold vines across Aziraphale’s skin. They sprouted buds that blossomed into shining human eyes. Crowley shook his head at the utter _goodness_ of it. Granted, the eyes were a little creepy, but you’d never see him getting such a beautiful cosmic tattoo job on acid. He grumbled as such as he tied his newly Edenesque hair back and flopped into his throne.

“It seems today the cosmos is taking requests” Aziraphale chuckled, and gestured towards the demon’s arms. Delicate onyx tendrils crept along them, occasionally swelling into peacock tail eyes.

“Oh come now, you’re just being contrary to prove me wrong!” Crowley shouted at his own limbs, but softened quickly, “Hehe, we match.”

Aziraphale sidled alongside the throne and lay his arm beside Crowley’s to compare. “Beautiful...” Both sets of eyes seemed to expand and contract in time with each other. Lost in the moment, neither realised they were leaning towards one another until Crowley’s forehead brushed Aziraphale’s cheek, shocking him back to reality.

“You know what I find goes really well with drug abuse? Tea! I’ll go make some!”

“Well, you are the expert.”

2.

Crowley busied himself finding the good china, which was in the last cupboard he searched, as he expected it to be. He busied himself so hard that he sprouted several extra sets of arms, which his serpentine soul did not like at all. Both of the good cups found themselves shattered on the floor multiple times as he boiled a kettle and struggled to remember how teapots worked. As he fixed and righted them the fourth time he gave up and miracled the tea in as well. Pretty much the same as making it after all, and now he had time to think as he crashed things around to sound industrious.

Or he would have had time to think if he could maintain a thought for long enough to examine it properly. His tolerance was not what it used to be. All he really achieved was a silent argument with a particular cheeky peacock eye that seemed to be winking at him.

“You alright in there Crowley? Who’re you talking to?” Ah. A non-silent argument.

“Nobody, just having trouble with one of my arms.” The eye bopped backwards and forwards to an inaudible beat.

Crowley directed what he thought were his original arms to move the cups back into the throne room.

The laws of narrative cliché would have demanded he drop them as he saw Aziraphale, but in this case they knew better. The angel had taken up residence in his throne. Or what _was_ his throne but now seemed to be made entirely of light. Of course, it was merely reflecting its shining occupant. Aziraphale was a being of liquefied precious metals. His skin was now shimmering gold, his clothes various shades of rose gold and platinum and his hair long strands of streaming silver. He was either terrifyingly beautiful or just plain terrifying.

“Um, tea?” Crowley offered, blinking.

“Yes, thankyou. Sorry, I know I’m a bit bright, its bothering me as well.”

Crowley tried out a few ways of standing. He ended up seating himself and the cups on the table.

“You’ll have a less… intense… time if you try to relax. Watch me.” A few deep breaths banished his extra arms to whatever dimension they had come from. “Focus on my eyes and breathe with me.”

Aziraphale did as he was told and slowly dimmed. Crowley had hoped the angel would choose the eyes on his face but staring intently at his peacocky hand seemed to work just as well.

“Thats better.” They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, both lost in thought.

“I wonder-” they both started at the same time.

“After you”

“No, after you”

“After you, I insist.”

This went on for about ten minutes. Eventually, Aziraphale gave in.

“I wonder… actually now I wonder what I was wondering.”

“Ha! Wonder’s a funny word isn’t it? Wonder wonder wonder... one, duh! wonder...” Crowley slunk under the table.

“Oh, I’ve remembered! I wonder what the almighty was thinking when she made human brains receptive to this stuff.”

“Wonder, wonder, wonder. Probably that it would keep the weird ones distracted enough not to notice anything important. Wonder, wonder.”

“Surely thats blasphemy!”

“Is it? Maybe. Wonder. Well, you know, old habits. Wonder. Or just an accident! You know, this receptor looks great oh no its the lock for this weird key that makes the brain go spinspinspin”

“Noooo I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Inefferable. Wonder.” Crowley struck.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Aziraphale rubbed his inexpertly bitten ankle and scowled under the table.

“Snake!” came the indignant reply. The demon wriggled out and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Bleugh, glitter. Silly angel. Too good. Too pretty to bite.”

“That ridiculous statue has given you unwarranted confidence, dear boy. You’d be unwise to initiate any physical altercation with me.” Aziraphale stretched his arms and smirked down at Crowley, who suddenly felt very warm. The angel took his silence as meaning he wasn’t entering into the spirit of things and raised the stakes of his mock threat with the most complicated holy sigil he could remember (which was essentially a slightly wonky star). His eyes glowed as it dissipated into the air.

Crowley slithered off the ground and leaned on the throne back, his arms either side of his friend’s glowing silver curls.

“I seem to recall being able to manhandle you without too much trouble, cherub.” he purred.

“What? At the manor? You took me by surprise!” Aziraphale got up, standing nose to nose with his counterpart. “Underneath this soft exterior lies a holy warrior, and don’t you forget it!”

Crowley laughed. Aziraphale joined in as he gently lead him away from the table. He then grabbed the demons right arm in his left, twirled him elegantly away, then bore down with all his weight. Crowley collapsed, just managing to catch himself with his other arm. He was completely pinned.

“Much more realistic, don’t you think?” Aziraphale growled playfully into his ear.

“Ngk. That’s not fair either! _You_ took _me_ by surprise!”

“Fine.” Aziraphale released his vanquished foe. “Let’s settle this. A tiebreaker. No surprises.”

“Ok.”

They circled each other, eyes locked, neither sure exactly what facial expression to commit to in the circumstances. Their skin ornamentation writhed in anticipation.

Crowley miracled the glitter out of his teeth and threw it past Aziraphale’s head. He watched the angel begin to follow its path with his eyes and brought his left leg up to strike, only for it to be trapped in a vice grip. Aziraphale winked at him and swept his right leg out from underneath him, knocking him prone. Before Crowley knew what was happening, Aziraphale threw the trapped leg over his shoulder and grabbed both his hands, pushing him into a split. It was all over in less than a second.

Part of Crowley was enjoying himself very much. The rest of Crowley was giving that part a good talking to when Aziraphale interrupted.

“Have you learned your lesson, foul fiend? You’re graciously quiet in defeat.”

Crowley struggled ineffectively. “Best, three out of five?”

Aziraphale laughed and released him again. “I could do this all night.”

Please do, thought Crowley shamefully as he stood up. Out loud, he sighed dramatically. “I remember the last time I heard those words… poor Ligur. An asshole to the end but an _amazing_ lay...”

“WHA-”

Crowley grinned as he took advantage of the distraction to pounce. He straddled Aziraphale’s waist and knocked him to the ground.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“All’s fair in love and war, angel. Which is another thing Ligur used to say before he’d tie-”

There was a crash as Aziraphale surged up, knocking Crowley backwards and underneath him.

“That’s enough of that.”

“Prude.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Can I get up?”

“What’s stopping you?”

The angel gestured to his waist, still tightly wrapped in demon leg. Crowley panicked and immediately doubled down.

“Surely a holy warrior such as yourself can get off the ground with a tiny little serpent like me?”

Aziraphale sighed again. He rocked back on his heels, slid an arm under Crowley’s hips and stood with ease. To his frustration, the demon jumped out of his arms and immediately dived back on the floor. He sat back in Crowley’s throne and cleared his throat. A few minutes of silence passed before he finally asked:

“Out of… idle curiosity, did you really have sex with Ligur?”

“That guy thought sex was when a man and a woman looked at each other for too long. So, maybe?”

3.

A truly ridiculous few hours past. Entertainment was found in a handful of dust that wasn’t there, and then found again when either angel or demon pointed out that the dust wasnt there, and again when they asked themselves what dust even was anyway. The verdict was ‘human confetti’.

Aziraphale found the throne suited him very well. He’d always thought of himself as a sort of aristocrat with a conscience, if he were to be defined by human terms.

Crowley also thought the throne suited Aziraphale very well. Besides, he didn’t want it back, he was enjoying the floor. He had learned many centuries ago that the floor was a good place to be because you tend to have a more difficult time falling off of it. He was reflecting on this as he started floating towards the ceiling.

“Wh-”

“I think I managed to fall off the floor!”

Aziraphale thought about this for a moment. And then decided that it wasn’t something that needed thinking about. He just managed to grab Crowley’s foot as it sailed past his face and yanked down. Straight into his own lap. This would have rendered sober Aziraphale utterly petrified, but this version seemed more or less alright with it. The demon was equally unbothered.

“We can share!” Crowley performed what he thought was an elegant settling routine worthy of the most refined feline. Aziraphale saw a gangly spider dance, and instinctively tried to relax his animalistic friend with some strokes down his spine. Crowley collapsed happily.

“As much as I disapprove of the circumstances, it is nice to have a moment to just be,” Aziraphale pondered, “My only real concern since I called on you has been your falling out with gravity. Oh and giving you a good smiting...”

“I won one!”

“...Of course you did, dear. Is this what its like to be human?”

Crowley shook his head, dislodging Aziraphale’s hand from his hair (‘When did that get there?’ they thought simultaneously. ‘Also, didn’t I have it tied up?’ Crowley added mentally.). He nodded, nudging it back in place. What was he going to say? Oh yes.

“Depends on the human. Healthy ones can ‘just be’ sober, but there are fewer and fewer of those.”

“Poor mites. At least they have each other.”

“Yes, but they also have each other.”

“But surely, even though they drive each other to distraction, its better that they drive in company?”

“Not all of them. Some of them live their whole lives alone, always waiting for something that will never come.”

“Maybe they’re not as alone as they think.”

“Well, they’d know their own level of aloneness. Alone-itude. Alone-ocity.”

“Maybe they just need to reach out.”

“Maybe… ” Crowley fidgeted nervously, “They think they’ve done enough reaching out… over the years... and they feel like they should be the one reached to for a chan- ow! Watch the hair!”

“Sorry.” Aziraphale untangled his fingers from Crowley’s locks and miracled the extracted strands back in place. A questioning silence curled around the pair. “These lonely humans… say another… human were to reach out… what would that look like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe an unannounced visit? Just to check in? With a completely feeble excuse?”

“Well, it would certainly be a start.”

“Now there’s a thing.”

“But maybe they need a little more than that.”

“What would these humans have in mind?”

“Maybe a cuddle in their favourite chair?”

“Is that so? Interesting.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his friend, adding wings for extra embrace. He’d only really intended to summon _one_ pair, but something inside him felt like going all out.

Crowley caught and held his gaze through a forest of feathers. “I’m just talking about humans, no need to get all immaculate conception on me...” He said as he tentatively stroked the angel’s cheek.

“Of course. How silly of me...” Aziraphale replied as he pulled Crowley closer. “To think, a rakish, dark and brooding creature such as yourself would _desire-”_ He ran his hand through silky crimson. “such a thing as _intimacy.”_

Crowley felt like a thousand tiny feet were dancing a jig on his scalp. A second later, monarch butterflies took flight in droves from the crown of his head. Of course.

“Nothing against you, angel, I’m just not that kind of occult being. Love is another four letter word.” He cleared his throat and made a surprisingly successful attempt at looking coy. “Those humans though, you know, a lot of them need to be loved.”

“To continue the thought experiment, the lonely humans should know that they are loved.”

Crowley winced. “Maybe they only get told that when they’e accidentally drugged their… the other human.”

“Well the other human will just have to drag the resolve out of somewhere to tell them when they haven’t been accidentally drugged, won’t they? But in the meantime...” Aziraphale leaned in. Crowley intercepted with gentle hand.

“In the meantime, a cuddle in my favourite chair will do just fine. I love you angel, but I don’t want to answer to your parents...”

“Oh thankyou so much that was getting hard to follow” Aziraphale blurted. “I love you too. In case that didn’t come across properly. Just, you know, making sure.”

“I believe you.” Crowley said, incredulous. He watched Aziraphale’s eyes flick to his lips and back. “But I would never take advantage of one so pure,” he curled an arm around crowded shoulders, “so trusting,” he tucked a curl behind the angel’s (feathery?) ear, “so _good_.” he ran his fingertips down Aziraphale’s throat. He looked back up into solid black eyes and giggled.

“I’ve never felt less _good_ in my life.” The angel’s sclera suddenly returned. “I mean… that came out wrong I meant I feel… you know…”

“Ssssinful?” Crowley grinned as Aziraphale blushed in what can only be described as a fuschia full body tie-dye. “Oh darling, I’m flattered.”

“Goodness seems to be overrated anyway.”

“Well if you still feel _sinful_ sober, I’ll show you just how overrated it is.”

“I’ve made love to you thousands of times in my dreams, dearest. I look forward to experiencing the real thing.”

Crowley inhaled his own hair and choked on it. “Every time I feel like I have the upper hand…” he spluttered.

“I’ll have you at every turn, demon.”

Crowley shivered. Their faces were getting dangerously close. Again. “I count on it.”

“Technically, my lust for you saved the world. Every living creature should be grateful for it.”

“How so?”

“Well… when I was travelling back to Earth from heaven I was thinking of you to find you as quickly as possible. I ended up having to focus on your body specifically...”

“Ha! Whatever worked I guess. You were just in time-” Crowley bit his tongue too late.

“What do you mean by that?”

The demon climbed out of the many wings encasing him and began to pace. “There’s something you should know. While I am so emboldened and if you will allow me to make an emotional hairpin turn at 90 miles per hour.”

“Oh? I’m all-”

“NO! I’m pretty sure if you say “I’m all ears” that earnestly something bad will happen.”

“Well predicted. I’m listening, anyway.”

“When you told me to drive to Tadfield in that bar I was... well I was having a few for the road. I’d decided I’d had enough when you turned up. I’d just poured the last of that holy water into my whiskey.”

Aziraphale became very still.

“You’ve got to understand... I thought you’d been-“ a series of gestures Crowley hoped evoked hellfire followed. “I was facing Armageddon and a holy war with no-one to pretend to fight until everyone else was dead. Besides, I don’t have a lot of good in my existence and most that there is stems from you, and the hope that if you are willing to entertain the notion of friendship with me then I must not be all that bad.”

“It seems I will have to put more effort into ensuring my own survival. No pressure, hey?” Aziraphale chuckled nervously, trying desperately to mask the twisting grief for what could have been. The evening had been going so well and he didn't want to break down over something that hadn't even happened. “I had a suspicion... I continue not to be an idiot.”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to stick around forever or anything I just couldn’t cope with the world ending without us getting to say goodbye. Damnation does tend to mess with your head a little. You should know what you’re getting into.”

“Firstly, I don’t see where else I would go! Secondly, don’t sell yourself short, you started us on that whole saving-the-world business, that had to have taken some sanity.”

Crowley opened an imaginary newspaper. “Local demon stops time, saves planet to continue making eyes at angel.” The newspaper was no longer imaginary and the reporting was way too truthful. He threw it away.

“You know you didn’t do it just for me.”

“C’mon, how often to I get to say ‘I did it for love’?” Crowley insinuated himself back into Aziraphale’s many limbs.

“Oh ‘love’! Riddle me this! If my entertaining the notion of friendship with you meant you weren’t all that bad, what does the fact I have been consumed by utter adoration (and lust) for millennia mean?”

“Well the adoration bit means that I am ‘maybe alright’. The lust side note means you are somehow still horny.” Crowley laughed. “Do all angels have your sex drive?”

“A marginally improved self image, an accurate (if unbecoming) assessment, and a very good question. I sincerely hope not.”

“Me too.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Are we both thinking about your old compatriot’s potential sex lives?” Crowley ventured.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then a distraction is required! Lets go on an adventure!” With this, Crowley jumped up, miracled away a large pane of glass and threw himself out the window. Aziraphale lunged after him.

“Crowley! Humans!” he hissed and tried to wrench his errant counterpart back in. The demon was hovering just out of reach, raven wings beating fast.

“It’s three in the morning! There’s nobody looking. I checked!” (He hadn’t)

“There could be at any moment, come back inside! Otherwise I’ll have to come and make you!”

“Come on then!” Crowley paused his wing beats and fell into a dive across the street outside his apartment. He pulled up and soared up the office block on the other side, perching on the roof. Aziraphale grinned and performed the aerial equivalent of a guilty sprint across the road. Crowley took off again as he approached.

“Come fly with me, angel. I’ll sing if I have to. I know you like the classics.” he tempted on his way past.

“We really shouldn’t. Look at us.” was what Aziraphale’s mouth said as the rest of him cheerfully committed to keeping pace.

“My wings will camouflage us against the sky. Just get thee behind me and no-one will be any the wiser.”

“I am still glowing Crowley. That is not going to work.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Ok, maybe I don’t care all that much about being seen by humans. Maybe I’d follow you anywhere. Maybe I’d do anything you ever asked of me.”

Something inside Crowley twisted with guilt as he hovered above London. “We can go back if you want.”

“Not just yet. You wanted an adventure.” Aziraphale held out both hands. Crowley took them. “I saw eagles do this on a documentary I’ve always wondered if it would work with… well… _our_ type of being.” He stopped beating his wings.

Crowley shrieked in surprise as angel and demon tumbled through the air in a death-defying waltz. Aziraphale squeezed his hands reassuringly and tried to let go to regain some control. His partner held on doggedly.

“Not quite such a daredevil now are you, my darling?” the angel teased. He spread his wings and gathered Crowley into his arms, holding them both aloft.

“Well you didn’t warn me that what you had in mind was plummeting a mile down!” Crowley grumbled. “Please let go, I can fly on my own when I’m not engaging in surprise acrobatics.” He made no effort to free himself.

“I'm sure you can. But something tells me you'd prefer me to fly you home in my arms.”

Crowley swore under his breath.

“What was that, dear heart?”

“Don’t let go. Fly me home.” the demon whispered, embarrassment and adoration fighting for control of his face.

Aziraphale’s skin glowed with new brightness. He kissed his beau lightly on the forehead and took a very scenic route back to the apartment.

By the time they arrived Crowley’s body had used all its intoxicated energy and was gearing up for a nice sleep. He stumbled as Aziraphale put him down, prompting the angel to sweep him back up again.

“Mmph. Can walk”

“Any excuse to carry you, sweetheart. Lets get you to bed.”

“Come with?”

“I feel that would be inappropriate, given our earlier discussions.”

“Stay with me.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

4.

Crowley woke in a nest. He didn’t remember making a nest. He figured that it was just something that had happened, rolled over and returned to his slumber. It was a very soft nest and he was very comfortable.

Two hours later, he woke again. This time he remembered he had a guest and actually bothered to focus his eyes. Aziraphale was looking at him with the tortured expression of someone who’d been having a silent panic attack for at least three hours. Crowley looked around and remembered. Wings.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake. I have to know, did you mean what you said?”

What did I say? Crowley began to interrogate himself. Was it something bad? Did I mess everything up? Did I- OH WAIT.

He leapt up for ease of arm-wavey gesticulation. “Yes! Of course I did! Everything is screaming at me to make a hasty retreat before I fuck everything up but for some reason I’m doing this instead! Wait – did you-”

“I’ve never meant anything more in my life!”

“As much as I appreciate that, and it is so, so much angel you have no idea, I get distracted quite easily so my question was actually going to be ‘Did you spend the past-’” he checked his watch, “ _At least ten_ hours with your wings in the perfect nest position?’”

“Well, yes. You wanted me to stay with you and I wasn’t sure I should accompany you to bed. They’re only cramping a tiny bit.” A couple of awkward flaps, intended to put Crowley’s mind at ease, did nothing to support this.

“Please kiss me, foolish principality.”

Aziraphale rose, grabbed the love of his life by the waist and performed an exaggerated and completely graceless dip “With pleas-”

“No! I’m being selfish. First stretch your wings out. Then let me massage them. Then kiss me a lot!”

“Really? You’re going to ask me to tend to my not-even-corporeal form before fulfilling the request of the being I love most in the universe?”

“Well, when you put it like th-”

Aziraphale did not let him finish his sentence.

Epilogue

Excerpt from The New Aquarian website, December 18th 2019

Several shocked Londoners bore witness to extraterrestrial activity early Tuesday Morning. Reports vary, but it seems two winged beings of unknown origin flew through the skies above the capital city for approximately half an hour.

“They flew up for ages, then dove and one of them caught the other!” reported English Insomniac Ivan McDonald, “It was really weird!”

Night shift nurse Tameika Bunsen was on break when she witnessed the phenomenon.

“I thought they were just really big birds at first. But then I realised, they’d have to be _really_ big birds, you know? Like _impossibly_ big.”

UFO expert Robert Finnigan joined us to speculate on the meaning of their aerial movements.

“Flight patterns like this are rarely witnessed in nature without some sort of significance… my best guess is some sort of courtship ritual or display of dominance.”

Further updates as events warrant. Anyone with information about this occurrence is encouraged to contact the editor.


End file.
